Waiting
by WhenDayMeetsDark
Summary: As the child of a victor, Renelle Winters has known her whole life that she was going into the Hunger Games; she's excepted it, even. But you know what she hates the most? What really gets to her? Waiting for it.


**Hey. So lately I've had a bit [okay, a lot] of writers block, and while trying to work through it, I came up with this oneshot for The hunger Games [obviously]. It was beta'd by the amazing LoveTheBoyWithTheBread. As of now, it's just going to be a oneshot, but I might make it a story of the girl's Hunger Games if you want me to. So, let em know in a review.**

The Hunger Games

It's the reason for the unspoken fear among the districts and the terror in every child and parents eyes. Each year it kills yet another twenty-four innocents, if not physically, mentally. Because even if you make it out alive, you'll still be dead inside. There are some things that can never be unseen, some things that can ruin your life forever. The Hunger Games are one of those things.

But, ultimately, you know what I find is worse than the Games themselves? The waiting. Waiting for the day when I'll attend yet another reaping and they ll be the waiting, the wondering if I'll be going home or marched into the justice building to say my final goodbyes with my family. Waiting for my districts capitol escort to reach her hand into the reaping ball and pull out a slip of paper. It doesn't matter, it never does. Because one year, they'll all say the same thing; my name. I know the reaping will eventually be rigged to put me in the games; it's a simple fact. I just hate waiting for it. Waiting for my name to be called and for the peacekeepers to march me into the justice building for a teary goodbye, and Ill try not to cry, i really will, but as i knew in the beginning, I'll fail. And all too soon, they'll be gone and will be put in front of the cameras and then the train along with my district partner, know that one, or more likely both of us will die. I'll be talked to and sent to bed, but I won't sleep a wink because I'll be waiting for my untimely arrival in the capitol where I'll be put through beautifying and interviews and a chariot ride and training. I'll be scored [lowly most likely] but none of it will matter to be because I'll be too busy waiting. Waiting for the waiting to be over. Then, when my capitol stay finally comes to an end, I'll find myself on a metal plate awaiting the gong that shall sound and signal the beginning of the games. And from then on out it will be a constant wait for either my death or my victor. Quite frankly I have more confidence in the former.

For fourteen years I've been spared the horror that is the Hunger Games. So I enjoy life while I can. I enjoy the beauty, the sentimentality of it all. I'll live laugh love.

But I can't help but feel that despite my efforts, I'm not truly living my life to the fullest. I try to tell myself that I have little time, so I should try and take joy even in the smallest and simplest of things, but I can't. The Hunger Games has ruined that for me. The horrible games that may, perhaps all, of the capitols residents cruelly call, 'entertainment'.

It's terrible the way they treat us as if we're nothing more than wild dogs. I just don't understand how they can decide when a child is old enough to die. Twelve is far too young, but if eighteen. Heck, eighty-three would be too young as well. Can't they imagine what it would be like to be standing in crowd and hearing your child's name called out? Or even what it would be like to be the child walking to their death? Do they even care?Or are their limited brains that already lack sincerity, humility, and most of all, humanity, restricting them the ability to sympathize as well? When they lie down safely and worry free into their beds each night, do they ever think about the lives that have been ruin by the Games? Every time they kill another innocent child, a large part of the child's family and friends die as well. But they don't care, not enough to do anything about it, anyway. Perhaps 'twas the way they were raised or maybe they're really just that horrible. I'll never know, because I'll never allow myself to become like them. Shoot me if I do.

A certain line in that last paragraph, _But they don't care, not enough to do anything about it, anyway_, leaves me wondering; has anyone ever tried to do anything? Has anyone ever tried to destroy the Hunger Games and been publicly executes as they would have in any district because of it? Again, I shall never know.

How did I get so far off topic? The whole point of this document was to let everyone know how horrible the waiting truly is, and now I've begun to talk about the capitol and whether or not anyone has ever tried to destroy the Hunger Games. [Well, I'm certain that if they wanted to they always could have joined the rebellion. Oh dear, I've said too much. It's too late now, I suppose, don't you think?] And now I'm talking to paper.

Back on topic: I don't want to wait anymore. It's terrible, its agonizing, its suspenseful [not in the good way, though], and honestly? It's almost as bad as the actual Hunger Games for crying out loud! So please don't make me wait any longer. I know it's coming, and I can't stop it, so please, just allow a small leniency as to not make me wait any longer. If I can't have that, then perhaps ill take matters into my own hands and volunteer! The Games have already ruined my life; they may as well take it away too.

So I wake up and attend yet another reaping. Only this time...

_Ducky Leavers reaches her thin hand into the girls reaping ball and ruffles around for a bit before finally pulling out a slip. The whole crowd take sin a collective breath and in her high trilly capitol accent she calls out a name, "Renelle Winters."_

This time I won't be coming back.


End file.
